The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard | ||
[Yes, we are merry Cossacks]
Yes, we are merry Cossacks,
Though not the Russian breed;
But bring a steed from Ilmen,
And fatten the lean steed.
Though not the Russian breed;
But bring a steed from Ilmen,
And fatten the lean steed.
When we come back with plunder,
We are true Cossacks then:
We sleep in the arms of beauties,
My merry, merry men.
We are true Cossacks then:
We sleep in the arms of beauties,
My merry, merry men.
The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard | ||